


new beginnings

by aelisheva



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bisexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jewish Character, Jewish Holidays, Jewish Identity, Jewish Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, POV Jewish Character, Shabbat | Sabbath | Sabt, au where geralt is ACTUALLY nice to jaskier, geralt be a decent person in general challenge, geralt/jaskier/yen if you squint, jaskier is a njb (nice jewish bard), she's only mentioned once in passing here though, very brief mentions of period-typical anti-semitism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelisheva/pseuds/aelisheva
Summary: "Other than you and Yen and Ciri, hardly anyone even pricks up their ears at my sets. It takes a lot of effort just to hold their attention.”“Is that why your stage name is just one name? Just ‘Jaskier?’”Jaskier picked up a candle and spun it in his hands. “Well, that and the fact that Julian Alfred Pankratz isn’t exactly the most alluring name alive.” He shifted the candle to his other hand. “Especially the ‘Pankratz’ part. It just sounds too...well, you know.”Geralt just blinked, looking lost. “No. No, I don’t think I know what you mean.”______Or, Jaskier is celebrating Shabbat and Geralt wants to join in too.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 32
Kudos: 126





	new beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to EmAndFandems with her help in figuring out Jaskier’s Hebrew name! (To all who are wondering, his Hebrew name Lotem, which means "bush of golden flowers," is pronounced LOW-tehm.) Check out Em’s fics, they’re amazing <3 <3 
> 
> Another special shout-out to @one-percent-metallic on tumblr, who was also very excited about this fic idea <3 <3

“All right…” Jaskier stepped out of the village’s shul and walked back towards Geralt, waving the wine bottle and candlesticks in his hands. “We have the wine, we have the candles, now I’ve got everything I need for tonight.”

They headed back to the nearby clearing they’d set up camp in. Jaskier put everything down next to their fire, and Geralt went over to nuzzle Roach. “Please remind me, Jaskier. What is this holiday you’re celebrating again?”

“What holiday  _ we’re _ celebrating. Come on, it’s very easy. It’s called Shabbat and it’s a day of rest. From sundown tonight to sundown tomorrow, we are commanded to do absolutely  _ nothing. _ ” He sat down next to the candles, leaning back on a rock and putting his arms behind his head.

“Funny how  _ you _ don’t need a religious command to laze around or drink.”

Jaskier's mouth gaped open like a fish. “I resent that!” He tossed a stick at the witcher. (That  _ friend of humanity…… _ )

He dodged it, of course. Because it landed in the fire instead. “I thought you weren’t supposed to do  _ anything _ tonight.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Well, I can  _ breathe. _ And blink,” he said dryly. “And I can do the blessings over the candles and wine.”

“Hm.”

Jaskier looked over to the witcher, who was now staring back at the crackling fire. “Do you want to do it with me?” Geralt blinked and quirked an eyebrow.  _ Fuck. _ “I -- I mean --  _ the blessings. _ To do the blessings for Shabbat. Over the wine and the candles and the -- _ that _ .” He sighed.  _ Great _ save. As much as he would love to not correct himself on this one, he really did want to focus on the holiday tonight.

“Uh…Of course, yes.” He started walking over towards the bard. “I’m honored that you’d choose to include me in traditions like this. This seems very important to you.”

“Any time, ze’evi levan.”  _ My white wolf. _

“I have no idea what you just said.” Geralt picked up the bottle of wine.

“Do you want to know how to bless the wine?” Jaskier asked, watching as the glass picked up the streaky oranges and yellows of the fire.

Geralt gave a small smile as he sat down. (Was it the end of times already??) “I would like that.”

Jaskier took out the tin Kiddush cup from his bag. “Alright, then. Repeat after me. Ha-ze’ev levan...”

“Ha-ze’ev levan,” he monotoned back.

“V’raychot.”

“V’raychot.” How did he get the chet-sound down so perfectly? On his first try. Wow. That was….surprisingly attractive.

“K’mo baht-sahl.”

“K’mo baht-sahl.” He blinked, staring softly at the bottle. “So what did I just say?”

“‘The White Wolf smells like onions.’”

Surprisingly, he let out a scoff of laughter, a small grin, and a much larger shove towards Jaskier’s shoulder.

“What?” Jaskier caught himself against the rock before he could completely fall down into the dirt. The witcher was  _ strong. _ “You said yourself that that’s what you smelled like. That first day we met. Remember?” He nestled back into place.

Geralt nestled in next to him. “How could I forget? You were singing that song about the pikes and the spikes of Posada and such. Very catchy.”

Jaskier leaned his head on his shoulder. “If only all of my audiences were as supportive of me as you are.”

Geralt quirked a smile. “I’d be a very jealous man if they were as... _ passionate _ about you as I am,” he cracked.

Jaskier snorted. “Not like that! I mean -- you know what I mean. Other than you and Yen and Ciri, hardly anyone even pricks up their ears at my sets. It takes a lot of effort just to hold their attention.”

“Is that why your stage name is just one name? Just ‘Jaskier?’”

Jaskier picked up a candle and spun it in his hands. “Well, that and the fact that Julian Alfred Pankratz isn’t exactly the most  _ alluring _ name alive.” He shifted the candle to his other hand. “Especially the ‘Pankratz’ part. It just sounds too...well, you know.”

Geralt just blinked, looking lost. “No. No, I don’t think I know what you mean.”

Jaskier sighed. “Well….It’s also the reason why, everywhere but shul, I usually introduce myself as either Jaskier or Julian Alfred. Never as Lotem.”

Geralt nodded. “The other name your parents gave you, in their tongue.” 

“Yes. After a bush of golden flowers outside my mother’s door that she saw the day she went into labor...Hence the name ‘Jaskier’ after a type of golden flower, and so on and so forth.” He waved his candle-free arm in the air. “It’s alright, you don’t have to look at me like that.”

“Jaskier…” 

“I did it for the best.”

“Lotem.” Geralt had called him that before a few times, but never quite this….soft. Open. Different from all the other times Jaskier had tried to teach him the language. “Kahl ha-shemot shelcha hem yafeem.”  _ All of your names are beautiful. _

Something inside Jaskier’s heart shook and fluttered open like a yellow flower bud. He dropped the candle. “S-so are you.” He tackled Geralt into a hug. “I really don’t deserve you, you know that, right?”

After a second of surprise, Geralt allowed himself to hug him back and run a hand through the bard’s hair. “I could...could say the same about you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me for all these years and --”

“Because you deserve it!”

“Well, so do you, but…” A gust of wind blew in and rattled the dropped candle around Jaskier’s legs, then Geralt’s. “Uh...we can continue this discussion later, if you want.”

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead. “I would like that.” He smiled as the witcher’s cheeks grew hot under his hands. The bard drew away and picked up the candles. He leaned both of them into the fire until their wicks lit up. Then he stuck them down into two small ditches in the dirt they’d made before heading out to the town shul. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He ran over and grabbed one of his kippot out of a small cloth bag. He put on the light green kippah with a giant buttercup embroidered in the middle. His favorite one. “Take one from the bag before we say the prayers.”

Geralt started rooting through the bag, overstuffed with kippot of various colors, patterns, and fabrics. He finally picked out a monochrome gray one made out of silk. “How many of these do you have?

“Enough to match all my best doublets, of course. I’m quite proud of my little collection.” 

“As you should be.”

Smiling, Jaskier turned back to the candles. His eyes caught the brightness from the firelight. He crouched in front of the ditches and took a breath. Geralt followed. “Now...let’s begin.”

**Author's Note:**

> jaskier is jewish and i'm prepared to die on this hill


End file.
